Someone did this to the rift, twisted it until it was as black as the darkest hour before dawn, as far as Adrasteia can figure which means... she hopes, beyond all sensible hoping... that there is some way to undo it. To make it just a hole in the Fade, or to close it entirely.

Then again, it's a temple to an Old God. Perhaps she's being too hopeful in general.

"Okay." The sound of her agreement barely carries; in a normal room it would be pitched low, quiet, and here the vocalization is swallowed by the same growling pressure she can feel all around them and knows the source of which is that tear in the fabric of reality above and behind Ellis.